1. Thursday, September 19, 2002

    ashley gets jealous. 

    have i ever told you that? it’s true.

    i tell her that she has no reason to be that way, that none of the girls in LA really want me and she says, “that’s not what Lenny Kravitz says.”

    i tell her that Lenny wears women’s clothes and is bald as a bat and wears a wig.

    she says “BLIND as a bat, poopyhead.”

    i say, lenny isn’t blind.

    then she sighs. she sighs a lot. when she sighs i say, “what was that?” and she gives me a second sigh. it’s cute.

    almost every night before i go to sleep ashley calls me. lately she has been trying to start fights with me. i hate fights. last night she caught me after our xbi softball game. i was watering the grass out by the duck pond. the automatic sprinklers aren’t working. i think our gardener is an alcoholic. anyhow, ashley was saying how she feels unloved by me and i said, i put a huge picture of you on my blog. she said, so, you didn’t write about me. i said i did! i said you were perfect. she said, you didn’t say that i inspire you. i said, aaaaah of course you inspire me.

    it was hard to explain. so i stuck to the fact that i put her picture up. it was really all that i had going for me.

    how many blogs put your picture up yesterday? i asked her.

    nobody i know has a blog other than you. she said. when she enunciated “blog” she made it sound like a stupid thing. like, “you’d never guess what Juanita got for her sweet 16th birthday gift: a frog!”

    i undressed, turned off the christmas lights and climbed into bed. we were still on the phone

    i told her that i found a pair of her red panties.

    “i don’t have any red panties,” she said.

    i could have sworn they were red. but you know my memory.

    she became very angry at the idea that some other panties might be left behind that weren’t hers.

    she said, “describe them.”

    i said, “im in bed.”

    she said, “DESCRIBE THEM!”

    i said, they smell like you.

    she said, don’t be gross.

    i said, they’re a thong, they seem new.

    she said, “get out of bed right now and tell me what the label says.”

    i got out of bed right then and found the panties and said, “victoria secret.”

    she said, “those aren’t red those are pink!”

    my christmas lights had tricked me yet again.

    she said, “i love those! that sucks that i left them behind.”

    i said, “don’t worry, they’re safe in this ziplock baggy.”

    she said, “i told you not to be gross.”

    i said, “i could make $100 off these panties. you’re famous.”

    she said, “you’re more famous than me.”

    i said, “a famous girl’s teen panties found on the famous guy’s floor. that could get us $100.”

    she said, “im hanging up if you don’t stop being so sick.”

    i said, “im not that famous. probably only $75.”

    she said, “please don’t sell my panties.”

    i said, “i wont sell them for less than $125. don’t worry.

    and she said, if you sell those i will never talk to you again.

    i said, promises promises daisy princess. and i schemed myself to sleep.